First Tory MP: She’s got to go. WHEN will she go?

Second Tory MP: Soon. Any minute, probably. How did it get this bad?

MP1: Dunno. I was a man in my prime before the 23rd of June 2016. Now I’m on Prozac, blood pressure pills and Viagra.

Third Tory MP (old, fat, very drunk): Everyone is, mate. Stop me if I’m on the wrong track but what about Amber Rudd?

MP1 and MP2: Shut up!

MP1: This is not the time to take refuge in absurdity. We’re trying to save our seats, not end up with fewer votes than Cornish Separatists. Anyway, to get someone in you have to get the current occupant out. This one’s like getting the proverbial number two off the proverbial blanket.

MP3: Hang on, you loved her two years ago.

MP1: She had promise then. Oh, it was all going to be a walk in the park, wasn’t it? Every smartarse millennial was singing the praises of the plan. Go to Brussels, agree surrender beforehand and then have a play fight for the benefit of the public. Like Cameron having his little game about migrant benefits – that was all nonsense to try to bamboozle Mail readers into thinking he was bossing Brussels. Blimey, we thought we had troubles back then! Following that we get the Brexit vote. So lazybones Cameron resigns and we get her, and she pulls the general election stunt! Whose idea was that?

MP2: Probably someone’s nephew. It was quite a good idea on paper. Get a Remainer to swear blind she was going to deliver Brexit while all the time pulling the other way. Public betrayed but, just like in ’75, by the time the deal is done there’s bugger all they can do about it.

MP3: The good old tricks don’t seem to work any more.

MP2: People are very cross.

MP1: I keep hearing this, but what about?

MP2: Everything. One of them barged into my constituency office the other week. He said: ‘You’ve filled this country with debt, drugs, Islam and Bulgarians and my old granny can’t get a GP appointment for love nor money and you’re sending money to Pakistan! I voted Brexit and you voted to deliver it and now you’ve welshed on it.’ I thought he was going to throttle me, I don’t mind telling you –

MP3: People like that should realise that the Tory Party is the party of low wages, er no, hang on, no that’s not right. Ah, that’s it: the Tory Party is the party of . . . er . . . are you going to the bar, old boy? Large Macallan, please.

MP1: Of course we voted to deliver it while knowing full well we were going to try to stop it. Why don’t the public understand British politics!? It’s how we roll. What did you say to him?

MP2: Well, I nearly said: ‘If you don’t like it, do what we do. Move to Chipping Norton and then shout yay for multiculturalism on the BBC. You can’t hear the call to prayer in the Cotswolds. Ask Dave Cameron. Besides which, do you know how much migrant labour it takes to keep the CBI and the Treasury happy each financial quarter?’ But of course I didn’t say any of that. I said that the government is working to make things better, the usual old Blair bunny. I’m amazed no one notices that at the end of Osborne’s ‘economic miracle’ of migrant labour the public have to fork out £20billion to save the NHS. Even my complainant didn’t mention that. So I flannelled him: told him we are scouring the Philippines and India as we speak for more doctors to see your old granny. Told him not worry, in a few years we’ll probably have robot GPs, loads of ’em. Just think, no salaries, no pensions, no unions and the only worry will be the BBC and the Guardian whining that they talk in RP and there aren’t any trans robots. I’ll propose an Early Day Motion that all robot GPs must speak in a variety of different accents reflecting our diverse and tolerant multicultural LGBTQ+ society. Then I’ll get the chief whip to put me up for an OBE. Bet I get it. I can see the newspapers now: ‘MP’s fight against racist medical robots’.

MP3: You’re drunk – hic –

MP2: No, the future is arriving fast. GPs are retiring as soon as they possibly can in the face of a tsunami of demand created by millions of immigrants. Of course, the media thankfully hide all that by saying the pressure’s all caused by old white people. You know how the BBC hates them.

MP3: Well, they voted Brexit, didn’t they.

MP2: That’s why they want to punish them by saying they have to pay for their TV licence. 

MP1: This is getting us nowhere! Who will be next leader? Rudd, no; Gove, YUCK; Hunt, zzzzz. There must be someone.

MP3: How about Farage?

MP1: I must say that joke is in very poor taste.

MP3: We’ve only got one hope left.

MP2: No, not … him.

MP1: You don’t mean … you can’t mean…

MP3: Look at the grassroots polls. They love him. Hello, who’s this coming in? Blimey, talk of the devil!

Boris (to an assistant): Once I’m PM I’ll have the press conference outside Number Ten and I’ll kick off by quoting some Horace or Terence, maybe even a little Winnie – I’ll gauge it on the day.

MP3: BoJo! BoJo! Any chance of a job? I’ve always loved you, it was everyone else who denounced you.

MP1: Ha! He walked right past you and straight out the door. Didn’t even look.

MP2 (nervously): Things look bad. D’you know, I sometimes think I’m going to look out the window here in Parliament and see the mob outside baying. Not the Islamists or the Extinction Rebellion lot but the taxpayers, the people on the Clapham omnibus.

MP3: Have you been on a bus in Clapham lately? Take a translator, old boy. I keep wondering just who is voting Tory these days. Why would any Tory voter vote Tory? Blimey, that’s a bit of a tongue-twister after a few bumpers.

MP1: Boris indeed! If we were going to have him we should have had him back in the day; instead we got Dave, the personification of Idiot Son Syndrome. Everyone’s bored with Boris now: the haircut, the whole thing. He’s like some old variety act gone wrong.

MP2: He could be bloody useful though.

MP1 and MP3: How so?

MP2: The public seem to think he’s a full-blooded Brexiteer rather than just another fat rat in the maze with the rest of us. Our big mistake was this ridiculous lark of installing as PM a Remainer who was pretending to believe in Brexit when she clearly would have sold Wales to the Chinese to keep us in the EU. Now dear old Boris is apparently a Brexiteer – despite his two essays, one for Remain and one for Brexit. Boris knows how to play political Find the Lady better than any of ’em. He might even buy us a little time.

MP1: Yes, excellent point. A little time with which he can finally and irreversibly to do the only decent thing a proper Brexiteer Tory can do.

MP3: Which is?

MP1: Deliver Remain!

*as imagined by Robert James

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